Red Letter Day
by TheLittlestRaindrop
Summary: After receiving a letter from your mother, you're certain that today will be the worst day of your life. A conversation with Major Miles changes your mind.


'Shit! I swear to God, if they put me on icicle duty one more time...' Liam mutters under his breath as another icicle hits the ground. The two of you have been clearing them off of Fort Briggs for at least three hours now, and your thick uniforms are struggling to keep the chill out.

Honestly, if you'd know life at Briggs was going to be like this, you never would have requested a posting here. Well, you would have, but you would at least have bought some thick, woollen under-things with you.

As a child, your family had made it very clear that they expect certain things of you. You must always act as they instruct, you must never make friends with an Ishvalan, and you must dedicate your life to serving the great country of Amestris. Of course, even as a child you'd considered these rules to be ridiculous. Why do you always have to do as they say? What have the Ishvalans ever done to earn such hate? What is so great about Amestris? Still, you'd kept your mouth closed and gone along with it, even faking a smile when your parents had shipped you off to a military training camp. You'd been planning to deliberately fail all of your classes, determined to get kicked out.

Things didn't work out that way.

Instead, you'd ended up completing your military training, and specialising as an engineer. Sure, it's not a traditionally female role, but who cares? You'd finished top of your class, fixing a tank in half the time it took your fellow students. You were a prodigy, an engineering wizard, every single subsection of the Amestrian army was begging for you to join them.

Then, it happened.

Just as you were considering your place in the world, your father did the unthinkable. In a fit of drunken rage, he'd murdered an entire Ishvalan family.

You could barely contain the shaking of your hands as you read the letter from your mother. The words she had used, and the way she had phrased things made it sound like your father was some kind of hero. You'd torn the letter up, disgusted that your father could do something so vile, and that your mother didn't even see how disgusting it was. You'd felt a deep shame, and suddenly your future with the military had seemed uncertain. Who would want to work with the child of a murderer? When news of your father's crime came to light, would the military even still want you?

That was ultimately what prompted you to request a posting at Briggs. You'd told the military it was because of the excellent development team out there, but that had been a lie. In reality, you were hoping that if you were stationed all the way out there, the military wouldn't bother to come and remove you should your father's crime be made public knowledge. Out of sight, out of mind as the saying goes.

That saying may well be true, as you've been at Briggs for just over a year now, and no one has come for you yet, despite your father's trial being front page news. Apparently, the majority of Amestrians would have him released without charge, telling officials that 'Killing a rabid dog doesn't constitute murder, so why should killing a pack of Ishvalan mongrels?' they all cry outside the courtroom. The Ishvalans haven't said a word on the subject, and you can't say to blame them. If you were Ishvalan, you'd be terrified to speak out against a mob of angry Amestrians. The state of the world has become so bleak since the war…

Your thoughts inspire a sudden wave of fury in you, and you hack off the next icicle with a little too much anger; instead of falling to the floor, it flies straight over to Liam, hitting him in the legs.

'Ouch! Watch it! You could have taken my leg off!' He starts rubbing his wounded leg, as if he can rub off the pain.

You rush over to him. 'Shit, I'm sorry, Roach. I have a lot on my mind at the moment. Let's take a look at the damage.' You roll up his trouser leg, and instantly he lets out a gasp; maybe you shouldn't be doing this outside. Still, bit late for that now.

Liam has a nasty bruise on his leg, but that seems to be the only thing wrong with it. It could have ended a lot worse, that's for sure. You roll his trouser leg back down, and he looks at you, irritation in his eyes.

'Great, now I'm injured AND freezing. You need to be more careful! There's no room for distraction up here at Fort Briggs. I would have thought you understood that by now...' He's right, of course. You need to learn to get a grip if you want to see tomorrow. You've already developed feelings for a commanding officer, you can't afford to become any more distracted…

Speaking of commanding officers (albeit not ones you have feelings for), Captain Buccaneer approaches you swiftly, two other soldiers just behind him. You and Liam both stand to attention immediately, not wanting to irritate him.

He lets out a grunt. 'Stand down, men. I've come to relieve you of your duties for the evening. Go upstairs and get something to eat. You'll be attending to your regular duties tomorrow.' Liam winces slightly, and Buccaneer notices. 'What have you done to your leg, soldier?'

Liam suddenly looks very nervous. 'Er… It's nothing, Sir! Nothing to worry about at all!' You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Why is he being so evasive? He's clearly in pain, even if it is just a bruise…

You decide to rat him out. 'One of the icicles I scrapped off hit him in the leg, Sir. He has a nasty-looking bruise, but I don't think anything is broken.' Liam lets out another hiss of pain, no longer hiding it as his secret is now out.

Buccaneer gives you a stern look. 'I see. Thank you for your honest. However, as you're not a doctor, maybe it would be best if you took him to see the medic on your way to the mess hall. We don't want his injury to get any worse.'

You and Liam both give him a salute, and turn to leave. Before you can take more that a few steps, you feel something cold ad hard tap on your shoulder; Buccaneer's automail! You turn back around immediately, almost hitting your head on the automail as you go.

Buccaneer reaches into his coat, and pulls out a letter. 'This came for you this morning. It's from your mother, apparently. Probably wants to know how life is out here in Briggs. If you decide to reply to her, make sure to have one of the senior officers read over it first, just so you don't end up revealing anything too classified. Understood?' Your mother wrote you a letter? Why? You've had no contact with her since your father's arrest. Maybe she wants to apologise to you for everything she said about him? Maybe she's finally realised just how terrible his crime is. Or maybe she's just angry at you for not bothering to write to her for over a year. Whatever it is, you can't help but feel uneasy about it…

You thank Buccaneer, and head to the infirmary with Liam.

-T/S-

After dropping Liam off at the infirmary ('Dear God, Liam! How did you manage to injure yourself picking off icicles?' 'It wasn't MY fault'), you head straight to the mess hall to collect your rations. Normally, you sit and eat them in the hall with your comrades, but today you're taking them to-go. Whatever this letter from your mother is, you'd rather open it in private. You get the feeling you're not going to like it though…

After collecting your food from a rather confused-looking cook, you head down several of Briggs' many corridors, until you find a spot far enough away from the main areas of activity that you're certain no one will find you. You settle down in an alcove, trade the letter in your pocket for your gloves, and start eating your rations, nervously eyeing the letter as you do. Just the thought of what could be inside is making your food hard to swallow. Finishing your current mouthful, you tear open the envelope with care, and meticulously examine its content.

' _To the woman I once called 'Daughter',_

 _Well, isn't this a nice way to repay everything we've done for you? Fucking off to Fort Briggs, without so much as a farewell letter? Ungrateful child, how could you? What good will you be to anyone out there? You should be in Central, serving at the heart of our great nation. Instead, you're sat on your good-for-nothing backside up North, freezing your extremities off trying to 'fend off' an enemy we barely have any trouble with? You're a coward, and a disgrace to our good family name! I'm sure your father will agree with me when I say that if you don't request a transfer immediately, we shall be forced to legally disown you._

 _Speaking of your father, you'll be delighted to hear that he has been completely cleared of any wrong-doing. He's currently going through a few formalities with the courts, but he should be back home at any moment. See, you father is someone this family can be proud of. Ridding our country of a pack of Ishvalan mongrels can only ever be a good thing. It's a shame the War Of Extermination ended so quickly. If it had continued, you too would have had the chance to prove yourself a worthy daughter. Then again, at the rate rodents breed, I'm sure that they'll repopulate soon enough. Then it'll be hunting season again._

 _I look forward to hearing news of your transfer. Do try not to freeze in the meantime; the military only pays for funerals if you die through combat, not through weakness._

 _With much contempt,_

 _Mother'_

You read the letter over and over, almost as if you're hoping the words will change. Tears begin to fall from your eyes, as the reality of your mother's words begins to sink in. Your parents, the two people in the whole world that should love you no matter what, are threatening to disown you for choosing life up North. Your mother thinks you're a coward. Your father has literally gotten away with murder… tears of sorrow are quickly tainted by fury, and you fling your remaining rations at the wall in front of you, and let out an infuriated scream. That scream descends into violent sobbing as you clutch hold of your mother's letter, your tears threatening to make it illegible. You end up hunched over in your little alcove, your head resting on your knees as you wrap your arms around yourself. You're glad you decided to open the letter alone; you don't want anyone to see you like this. Being strong is the only way people at Briggs survive, and this is the weakest you've ever been. You need to swallow your emotions, hide them from the world. Take this one moment of weakness, and bury it deep within you.

You're so distracted by your own sobs that you don't hear anyone approach. Only when you're addressed by a deep voice do you realise that someone has found you.

'There you are. The cook said you'd taken your food and run off. Didn't think you'd end up feeding it to the floor, though...' It would have to be him, wouldn't it? Of all the people who could find you, it would have to be the one man you have feelings for.

Major Miles, Major General Armstrong's second-in-command. Fate has a sick sense of humour.

Upon realising who is addressing you, you do your best to stifle your sobs. When you think you've gotten the better of them, you look up at him, trying to subtly wipe away your tears as you do. He's wearing his goggles as always, so you can't see what emotion is currently hiding in his eyes. Disappointment, maybe? He wouldn't be the first person to be disappointed with you. 'S-sorry about that, Sir. I'll c-clean it up right away. Sorry.'

Miles makes a noise in the back of his throat. 'Mm. To be honest, I'd much rather hear why you thought it would be appropriate to waste food in the first place. It's not like there's much of it all the way out here. Whatever is in that letter must be pretty serious.' At the mention of the letter, you break into sobs again. 'Shit, it really is serious. Well, you can't just sit here and sob all night. Come with me.' He offers you his hand, which you take somewhat reluctantly. Even though he's wearing his gloves, you can still feel warmth seeping through them. You're willing to bet that Miles' body is always warm, even in this chill. He's probably like a human furnace…

When you're stood up properly, he gives your hand a tentative squeeze before letting it drop. He begins to walk deeper into the fort, beckoning you to follow him. You do so without question, unable to deny such a thing due to his station, and your personal feelings. You don't even question who's going to pick the food up…

Miles leads you down several more corridors, ones that you're not entirely familiar with. You're about to question where he's taken you, when he stops dead in front of a door. He holds it open, and gestures for you to go inside. Again, you do so without question. Miles follows you into the room, and locks the door behind him.

Your eyes perform a quick scan of the room. There are only four pieces of furniture; a desk, a chair, a wardrobe, and a bed. The type of furniture present leads your mind to conclude one thing; you're in his private quarters!

Miles stands next to you, removing his gloves as he does. 'Would you like some coffee? Might help take your mind off of things for a bit.' You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Miles nods back, and gestures towards his bed. Taking it as an invitation, you hesitantly sit on it, containing your sigh of conform when you fully seat yourself on it. How come officers get much comfier beds? One of the perks of being in charge, you guess…

As Miles prepares coffee for the two of you, you work on smoothing out the letter still clutched firmly in your hand. You try not to re-read it as you straighten it out, but it's difficult. Words such as 'disgrace' and 'mongrels' catch your eye despite your efforts, awakening your feelings again. You toss the letter face-down next to you on the bed, and instead try to focus on Miles.

Miles always moves with such precision when he works. No matter what the task may be, he always carries it out to the very best of his ability. It's one of the first things you'd noticed about him, long before you'd realised just how physically attractive he is…

Maybe looking at Miles is a bad idea, after all. Sure, it'll take your mind off of the letter, but is it worth the risk of revealing your concealed feelings towards him? The two of you may talk often when you're both working or in the mess hall, but this is different. This is his private space. Outside this room, you've always kept your decorum because your role demanded it. In here, it feels as if that barrier has been torn now, the intimacy of the setting altering the dynamics of your relationship. You're not sure if Miles feels that way, but you certainly do. All the more reason to keep your guard up…

Miles breaks your train of thought by handing you a coffee. You take it gladly, hoping that the heat will help clear your mind. Miles turns his chair to face you before taking a seat, his own cup of coffee in his hands.

The two of you sit in a tense silence, sipping your coffee and waiting for the other person to start talking. You try a few times to get the conversation going, but you keep abandoning your attempts in favour of drinking your coffee. Miles seems content to wait for you though, silently determined not to be the first one to speak. You plan to carry on your tactical drinking indefinitely, until you realise that you've run out of coffee. With no other method of stalling him, you start talking.

'Is it true that everyone out here has something that they want to hide?' Not the most direct route of questioning, but still a little better than abject silence.

Miles chuckles darkly before finishing his own coffee. 'Oh, it's true alright. No one here is without a secret or two. Not even me. Why do you ask?' He puts his cup on the desk, and offers to do the same with yours. You give him the cup, the exchange giving you time to formulate an answer.

'Did you hear about that Ishvalan family that were murdered last year?' It doesn't seem likely, but Miles may have heard snippets of a news report coming over the comms.

Miles' hands briefly curl up into fists, indicating that he knows exactly what you're talking about. 'Yeah, I remember that. A vicious drunk murdered an unarmed Ishvalan couple and their three children. He's currently on trial for it, right?' You nod your head. 'Did you know the family?' You shake your head. 'Then why bring it up?'

You grab the letter beside you, and offer it to Miles. He accepts it from you, a look of apprehension on his face. As he begins reading it, you stare down at his lap, unwilling to watch his reaction. He's going to be appalled when he reads it. Sure, he may be a soldier, and he's almost certainly killed people, but this is different. Your father is no soldier, he's a murderer! Unless… Does Miles share your parent's views on Ishvalans? What if he's just the same? The war has only just ended, he could easily have been involved in the extermination campaign. You don't know which reaction you fear worse…

After what feels like an eternity of silence, you hear the telltale rustling of paper being put down, followed by a chair creaking. Miles has moved his chair even closer to you, so close that your legs are now touching in some places. You can feel him staring at you, tearing you apart with his gaze. Maybe him wearing goggles all the time isn't such a bad thing, after all; hearing hate is one thing, but seeing it in someone's eyes is just too much.

When he makes no further movement, you look up at him, swallowing your fear as you do. You look straight into his goggles, trying to hold a stare you can't actually see.

Finally, he speaks. 'I see. So, your father is the one who murdered that family?'

'Yes, sir.' You say, trying to keep the fear out of your voice again.

Miles nods. 'I see. Shouldn't you be pleased, then? Your father has been acquitted, after all.'

You can feel anger rising to the surface again. Of course he'd be like this. Of course he thinks it's all okay. He's probably just as racist as your parents are!

You clench your fists, and spit out your response through gritted teeth. 'No, _Sir._ I'm disgusted and ashamed! My father murdered an entire family, yet he gets to walk away just because they're Ishvalan?! Don't even try to tell me that that's not the reason! I know that we're solders, and that we have to kill, but this is different. This is one man murdering five innocents, and never having to face the consequences. You know what the worst part of it is? My mother sounds so fucking proud of him! She makes it sound like he's some kind of hero! He's a monster, and an animal, and I desperately wanted him to rot away in prison! Now my mother is telling me that she's ashamed of me, but you know what? The only reason I asked to be stationed all the way out here is because I wanted to be as far away from my father and his crimes as possible! That's my dark secret, Sir. I'm the daughter of a murderer.' You stand up, preparing to storm out of the room. You don't even get to take a step towards the door, as Miles stands up too, and grabs hold of your arms. Your whole body freezes as you realise what you've just done; you've just screamed in the face of a commanding officer!

You try to backtrack, desperate to save the situation. 'I- I'm so sorry, Sir. I forgot my place for a while. If you'll excuse me, it's probably best if I get going. I have a transfer request to fill out, after all...' Maybe a transfer would be for the best, after all. At least you don't have any conflicting feelings for the Central staff, and you've never screamed in the face of any officers there, either. It's a lot warmer, too, so that's a bonus.

Miles scowls at you. 'If you hand in a transfer request, I'll make sure it gets rejected. There's no way in hell I'm letting you leave here, not like this. If you decide you want to leave in the future, I won't stop you, but I will not allow you to be guilt tripped into it. Your mother might think you're a 'coward and a disgrace', but I know different. You're a Briggs soldier, and we're as brave and as proud as they come. Don't let anyone forget that.

'As for what your father did, it really isn't all that different to what the military did back in Ishval. Even the outcome was the same. Still, the fact that you know what he did was wrong shows that you are better than him, and better than all those who would applaud his actions. It makes you a better person, and you shouldn't have to apologise for expressing those views, especially not to me. I didn't invite you in here as a soldier; I invited you in here because I care about your well-being as a person. So, if shouting at me will make you feel better, then by all means shout away. I'm used to it by now, believe me.' His thumbs rub your arms in slow, circular motions, and you find that it calms you down considerably. It seems that his meticulousness even stretches to his interactions with people…

You offer him a smile. 'Thank you, Sir.'

He smiles back. 'That's okay. Oh, and please call me Miles when we're alone. I told you, you're not here as a soldier. Now, would you like some more coffee?'

You shake your head. 'No thank you, Miles. I'd would like to ask you something though.' You slowly sit back down, and Miles does the same, assuming the same position he was in a moment ago. His hands leave your arms, and settle on your knees instead, forcing you to internalise a blush. You know you're going to have to try extra hard to focus on what you're say now, as if his mere proximity wasn't enough to make you fight off your feelings and hormones…

He grunts. 'I suppose that's alright. Fire away.'

You stare at his hands, trying to think of the best way to phrase your question. Should you be evasive again, or should you try the direct approach?

You keep your eyes firmly fixed on his hands, as you decide to be blunt with him. 'What are you hiding?' Your eyes shoot up to his face without your say so, your subconscious wanting to look at his face as he answers.

Miles seems to think about your question carefully before answering. 'I have two, actually, one of which could jeopardise our working relationship. If I tell you my secrets, you must promise not to tell anyone, and not to let them affect our working relationship. Outside of this room, I'm responsible for keeping you safe. I don't want there to be any conflicts of interest with that.' A conflict of interest? Like what? What could possibly cause…

Oh.

Oh, oh, oh.

Oh, please God, let it be so.

Is it possible Miles has feelings for you? It's the only thing that you can think of that would cause such a conflict! Oh, today might just be your day, after all, despite its terrible beginning and middle.

Unless you're jumping the gun, in which case this is the single worse day of your life.

As you think back over Miles' words, an epiphany hits; now would be the perfect time to tell him how you feel, regardless of his personal feelings. After all, he's just told you that he doesn't want a conflict of interest between you. You could take full advantage of the situation, and let your pent up emotions run free!

You place both of your hands over his, and try your best to put on a seductive voice. You should probably be direct with him again, but this way seems marginally easier. Either that, or he won't get the hint, and you'll be stuck with your repressed feelings again…

'You can tell me anything you want, Miles. I can keep a secret. Besides, it can be any worse than me having inappropriate thoughts about one of my commanding officers.' You start to move your fingers around in small circles on his hands, hoping he'll take the hint.

Miles shifts in his seat before answering you. 'It's funny you should say that, because I've been having inappropriate thoughts about one of the people under my command.' His hands begin to move up your thighs slowing, stopping just below your hips. You can feel arousal beginning to build up inside you, and you really hope he is actually talking about you.

You decide to follow his lead, and place your hands on his thighs, leaning in as close to him as you can without your faces actually touching. 'So that's why you're always wearing these goggles. You don't want anyone to notice your wandering eyes.'

Miles suddenly seems a little uncertain. 'That's my other secret, actually. I want you to take off my goggles. If you're okay with what you see underneath them, then I'd like to see what you're hiding underneath your uniform.' For a man who seems to be lacking certainty, he certainly hasn't lost any of his seductive power. Still, what could he be hiding behind those shades? Is he secretly blind? Does he even have eyes? Only one way to find out.

You bring your hands up to his goggles, and slowly slide them off of his face, before leaning over him and placing them on the desk. His eyes are closed tightly, as if he's still reluctant to show you his secret. You lean in, and place a kiss on each eyelid. He lets out a dreamy sigh, before finally opening his eyes.

His eyes are red.

He is Ishvalan.

He reads the conclusion in your eyes. 'Only one quarter, enough to avoid the purge at the beginning of the war. Still, Ishvalan blood runs deep in my veins. If this is going to be a problem then I-' You cut him off with a kiss.

Both of his hands immediately weave into your hair, and he moans into your mouth, his composure breaking as he loses himself to the kiss. You yourself are in a similar position, unable to think of anything other than his lips. They're so much softer than you'd expected them to be, despite how often they get exposed to the elements. You briefly wonder if he uses lip balm, but quickly shove that thought away in favour of focusing on the task at hand.

Eventually, you have to break for air, but that apparently doesn't apply to Miles. As you try to catch your breath, he starts littering kisses along your jaw, before coming up to nibble on your earlobe.

Miles lets out a breathy whisper. 'You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that. Just thinking about you drives me crazy. If I'd only known how receptive you'd be, I would have done this months ago. Still, at least I get the chance to make up for it now. After all, no one is expecting to see either of us until morning. That gives me all night to make you scream my name.' His teeth start nibbling along the side of your ear, one of his sideburns rubbing against your cheek. Despite the chill of your location, the room now feels incredibly hot. You're certain he must be feeling it, too, so you decide to help him out. Your hands blindly trail across his torso, looking for the buttons on his coat. When you find them, you begin the lengthy process of undoing them. Miles returns his mouth to yours, re-instigating the kiss with even more enthusiasm than before. As you undo his final coat button, he pushes you down onto the bed, using his body to pin you down.

Miles breaks the kiss this time, straddling your lap as he slides his coat off. You watch him as he also undoes his jacket, before removing it as well. Finally, he takes off his vest, and you gasp at the sight. Although he isn't quite as muscular as some of the Briggs soldiers, what he lacks in mass he makes up for in pure definition. You can make out the line of all of his abs, and his arms look so strong you swear he could snap you in two with them if he wanted.

Miles takes in your awed gaze, a smug half-smile on his face. 'You like what you see, then?' All you can do is nod again. 'Good. In that case, I think it's your turn.' And with that, he begins to pull at your coat buttons, undoing them in half the time it took you to undo his. When he's done, he doesn't bother getting up so you can take it off. Instead, he just pushes the sides away so he can get to your jacket. He unbuttons it just as swiftly, again shoving it to the side so he can access what's underneath. He slowly sides your vest up, until your stomach is completely exposed to him. He begins applying gentle kisses to your bare flesh, his breath tickling you slightly. He works his way up to the undersides of your breasts, and begins nuzzling into them, despite the fabric still concealing them. Miles soon grows sick of them being hidden, and decides to do something about it. He finally takes off your coat and jacket, before forcing the vest over your head.

The only thing now separating Miles from your breasts is your bra, and he stares at it like it offends him. He reaches behind you, somehow manages to unclasp it first try, and yanks it off before throwing it across the room. His eyes roam over your torso, and his lets out a low groan.

Now it's your turn to be smug. 'You like what you see, then?' You're coping his words from a moment ago, which doesn't go unnoticed.

Miles chuckles. 'So, getting cocky, are we? I'll let you off on this occasion, but don't think I'll tolerate it in the future.' His hands grab your breasts, and start toying with your nipples forcefully.

You let out a strangled moan, before deciding to push him even further. 'Who said that this is going to happen again?' You really hope that it does, and you're more than up for it, but still.

Miles' expression darkens. 'In that case, maybe I should punish you. I'd hate your next lover to think that I didn't know how to tolerate insubordination and a bad attitude.' Well, Miles has now effectively ruined your working relationship after all, as there's no way in hell you'll be able to take any other kind of punishment from him ever again. Then again, maybe he'd be willing to employ this kind of punishment for minor offences, like littering.

Oh. That gives you an idea.

You grin up at him. 'I don't plan on taking another lover, not when I can have you. However, I have been a bad girl today, and I think I need punishing.' You chew on the bottom lip, and Miles briefly halts his ministrations to give you a questioning look.

Miles bites his own lip when he realises what you're talking about. 'Oh yeah, you have been a bad girl, haven't you? Wasting food is a very serious matter. Now, how should I punish you? Maybe I should kick you out, and make you walk back to the barracks like this? Or maybe I should stick my face between your legs, and eat you out until you can't think straight...' You're already struggling to think straight with Miles touching you like this. You really hope he's joking about sending you out like this though; if you get caught wondering around half-naked, you'll be in for a real punishment.

Miles moves a hand down to your trousers, undoing them with ease before sliding his hand into them. He starts teasing you through your underwear, bucking his hips and moaning when he feels how damp they are. He can't resist pushing the fabric to one side and feeling he soaked flesh behind it. One of his fingers brushes across your opening, making you cry out. Miles notices, and begins using his finger to circle your entrance, teasing you slowly while his other hand refuses to leave your breast alone. After a series of whimpers from you, Miles finally shows you mercy, and slips his finger into you. Your insides clench around his digit, trying to get used to the intrusion. He begins pumping it and out of you in a steady rhythm, and you start gyrating your hips, desperate for more. Miles' other hand leaves your breast and heads for you hip, where he uses it to pin you to the bed. The speed of his finger decreases, and you let out a whine of frustration.

Your whine is cut off by a gasp, as Miles inserts a second finger inside of you. His hand on your hip is now the only thing from stopping you arching off of the bed completely, the pleasure almost too much. You can feel the beginning of an orgasm building within you, and your body starts to prepare for it. You close your eyes, surrendering yourself to your lover.

Miles uses your distracted state to his advantage, sticking in a third finger into you, and shifting his other hand along so he can toy with your clit as he does. You begin moaning his name, crying it out so loud you really hope no one else is nearby. You feel your walls begin to quiver, and you know a few more thrusts is all it'll take to send you over the edge.

Then, without warning, Miles withdraws both hands from your body, leaving you hanging on the edge of climax. You take in a few shaky breaths, utterly confused by the situation. Are you being too loud? Does he not want you any more?

You work up the courage to look at him, only to find him grinning wickedly at you. 'I think that was a suitable punishment. Now, I think it's time for me to make you scream for real.' With that, he stands up, and rids himself of the remainder of his clothing. You rub your legs together as you catch sight of his erection. The cold clearly hasn't had much effect on his size; he's definitely bigger than any of your previous lovers.

He notices your awed gaze, and mistakes it for apprehension. 'We don't have to do this, you know. If you want to back out, I'd understand.' Back out? Is he mad? Why the hell would you want to do that?! After his little tease, your body is desperate for release. Why go back and sort yourself out when you have someone willing (and undoubtedly able) to pleasure you? You need this, and you need him. You're not leaving until he's made good on his promise to make you scream his name all night long!

You finish undressing yourself, making sure to make it as seductive as possible. When you're done, you make yourself comfortable on the bed, spreading your legs as wide as they'll go. When Miles still doesn't get the hint, you're forced to give him verbal confirmation. 'You mentioned earlier on how you wish you'd done this months ago, but there's no time like the present.'

Miles smirks, and climbs into position on top of you. As he settles his length between your legs, he stares into your eyes. 'As true as that may be, that's a terribly cliché thing to say.' Before you can answer his remark, he slides into you, stretching you even further than his fingers had.

He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust. This gives you the opportunity to respond to his previous comment in a spectacular fashion. 'I guess you're not the only one with some Ishvalan in them now.' It's the single most clichéd and ridiculous thing you can think of, and you're certain Miles will think the same.

Instead of an irritated sigh or a glare, your comment earns you a groan. 'You'd better get used to it, because you're going to have Ishvalan in you every day from now on, understood?' He sounds like he's giving you an order; it turns you on way more than it should.

You grin wickedly at him. 'Yes, Sir.' You punctuate your sentence with a squeeze of your walls, and that's all it takes to make Miles move. He begins thrusting in and out of you with considerable force and swiftness, causing your mind to go completely blank. You and he feel like the only two things in the universe, and you almost wish that was true. Then you could spend all day like this, pinned under him while he makes you feel mind-numbingly fantastic.

After a while, Miles pulls out, and before you have time to process what's happening he flips you over, re-entering you from behind. This angle somehow allows him to slide in ever deeper, and allows you to muffle your cries with his pillows.

Miles is having none of that, tugging your head back using your hair. 'I want to hear you scream my name. I want you to scream it so loud the whole of Drachma will know who's fucking you. Come on, scream it for me.' The hand in your hair moves to play with your clit again, and you feel an orgasm approaching again, only this time it's a lot more powerful. You really hope this isn't another tease, or else the frustration of denied release might just be the end of you.

Miles bites down on your neck, and that's all it takes to push you right over the edge, him name the only word you can form as the world crumbles around you. Your orgasm just keeps on going as Miles continues to thrust into you, his own end surely approaching soon. You're not sure how much more of this you can take, your body quickly becoming over-stimulated.

Just when you think you can't take any more, Miles lets out a loud shout, and spills himself inside of you. You allow your body to grow limp as he finishes, trusting him to use you in whatever way he needs in order to prolong his own orgasm. When he's finally finished, he flops down next to you on the bed, slipping out of you before taking you into his arms. He has the good sense to manoeuvre you both under his duvet, knowing full well that's it's going to be freezing in here when your bodies finally cool down. You settle comfortably into his embrace, loving the feel of his strong arms wrapped around you. You could happily stay like this forever, but you know you won't be able to. He's probably going to kick you out as soon as he's come down from his high, and tell you to forget that this ever happened. Ah, well. At least you had this one time…

Miles eventual starts talking, his words going in the direction you feared they would. 'I'm sorry about that.' Great, here comes the 'it won't happen again' speech. You'd really rather not hear it, but you don't have much of a choice; his arms are still cocooning you.

Miles sighs. 'I let my hormones get the better of me. I should have been more loving and gentle, but I lost control. I swear, it won't always be like that. In fact, if you stay with me tonight, I'll prove it. Just… please don't tell me that you don't want this to continue. It would break my heart to lose you, just as I finally thought I had you.' His words calm you considerably, and you find yourself snuggling even closer to him, continuing to relish in the feeling of his embrace.

You smile wryly, but you're not sure if he can see it. 'I'm not going anywhere. Not tonight, at least. You have such a comfortable bed, after all...'

Miles chuckles. 'It's your bed too now, if you want it to be. Consider it one of the many perks of being my lover.'

You let out a small chuckle of your own. 'One of many, huh? Just how many perks do you come with?'

Miles hums in thought. 'Well, there's the bed, the room, the added warmth of sharing a bed, access to my personal bathroom, and the sex. The only real downside is that we'll have to be discreet. I doubt anyone here will turn us in for breaking frat regs, but it's probably best not to take the piss.'

You turn your head to face him, disbelief written all over your face. 'You get your own bathroom? God, if I'd known how many perks the second-in-command gets, I would have set my sights on Major General Armstrong! God only knows what kind of perks she comes with!'

Miles' face becomes neutral. 'I imagine there are more perks, but if you'd gone to her, she'd have turned you down. She knows how I feel about you. Hell, she's been trying to get me to say something for weeks. Said she was sick of me pining after you. She's cool with this, by the way, so long as it doesn't interfere with our work. Oh, but you're to report to her or Captain Buccaneer from now on, just so there's no chance of said interference happening. I hope that's okay.'

You shift so that your whole body is facing him, and gently stroke his face. 'You've really thought this through, haven't you? Just how long have you been planning this?'

He suddenly looks embarrassed. 'Uh… Well… Do you believe in love at first sight?' Ah, so he's had designs on you right from day one. No wonder he let his hormones take over earlier...

You give him a smug smile. 'Now who's being cliché?'

He laughs out loud. 'Alright, I'll give you that one. I'm still not as bad as you, though.'

You give his arm a playful smack, before remembering the reason you came here in the first place. Sighing, you sit up, the cold air finally hitting you full-force. You stand up, snatch your letter from the desk, and head straight back into Miles' waiting arms. He wasn't kidding when he mentioned how much warmer sharing a bed is; the man is like a walking furnace!

As you read over the letter again, Miles watches you apprehensively, as if he's uncertain what you plan to do with it. For whatever reason, you find that your mother's words have lost the sting that they had earlier. Now, they just sound like the ramblings of a racist bully, one that you have no time for.

Before you have a chance to tear the letter up, Miles draws you in even closer to him. 'I know I said I'd make sure your transfer got rejected, but I didn't mean it. If you truly want to do as your mother says, I'll respect your wishes. I know how important family is.' He really thinks you want to leave? Are you not making your feelings for him clear enough? Time to clarify things once and for all, then.

Instead of tearing it up, you decide to scrunch the letter up, and throw it across the room, before pulling Miles into a passionate kiss. He returns the kiss eagerly, one of his hands threading through your hair. You don't think you'll ever tire of his kiss, or just how eager his is to pleasure you. You really have hit the jackpot with him.

You pull away slowly, chewing on your bottom lip as you do. He licks his own in response, but before he can kiss you again you speak. 'Tomorrow morning, I'm going to write to that mother of mine. I'm going to tell her that there's no way in hell I'm transferring, and that I don't give a shit if she disowns me. I may also mention the fact that I let an Ishvalan fuck me to within an inch of my life, although that all depends on how the rest of the night plays out, and if I can do it without incriminating us both. What I'm trying to say is to hell with my parents! Now, can we please get back to kissing? I miss it already...' He practically pounces on you, pinning you underneath him again. The two of you start kissing again, and you move your hand south, determined to get him in the mood for round two.

When your hand reaches his length, you gasp into his mouth; he's already rock hard again.

Miles gives you another smug grin. 'Oh, yeah, there is one other perk; I pride myself on having excellent stamina. I really hope you weren't planning on sleeping tonight...'

You give him a wide smile; This might just be the best day of your life.


End file.
